Survival Training
by Balek
Summary: John and Alan get washed up on a beach in the middle of a thunderstorm and work together to survive the night. (This was meant to be my entry for the TIWF August 2K challenge, but I missed the deadline by one day... Oops!)


The full moon shone bright up in the night sky as lightning bolts ripped through it below. The wind whipped the palm trees back and forth as the waves crashed heavily at their roots, ripping the sand around them away. The storm was ferocious. It was not the type of weather anybody would want to find themselves in the middle of. Unfortunately, with the help of one of the larger waves, it was right in the middle that a certain young man found himself.

Coughing and spluttering, he dragged himself out of the churning water, the driving rain and sudden bright flashes of lightning making it all but impossible to see, before flopping unceremoniously face-down in the sodden sand with a loud moan, not that there was anyone around to hear him.

He lay there as the storm continued to rage around him. Surprisingly, it was pretty peaceful, at least, it was, until something poked him hard in the ribs.

"Come on Alan, up and at 'em. You're not dead yet." A voice, barely audible over the storm, said right in his ear.

Whatever it was that poked him, a hand he soon realised, slid under his chest and swiftly flipped him over, just as another lightning bolt ripped across the sky above, outlining the black silhouette of someone kneeling over him.

"Go 'way..." He moaned, shielding his eyes with his arm.

"What? After the trouble I took to get here?" The moonlight fell onto the silhouette, revealing the handsome, if absolutely drenched, features of a blond man, none other than John Tracy himself, who pulled a bag off his shoulder and dropped it onto his younger brother's chest. "Here, saved your pack for you."

"Hey!"

"You're welcome..." John sighed. "I don't know, I get myself half-drowned to save the survival packs and that's the thanks I get. Now, come on, we need to get somewhere a bit drier."

Grasping the hand offered to him, Alan clumsily got onto his feet, huddling in close to his older sibling for protection against the storm.

"Are you sure I'm not dead?" He yelled against the wind as they struggled along the beach towards the cliffs. "Because this certainly feels like hell to me!"

"Positive!" John replied. "For one, I'm freezing. And second, if it was, I very much doubt Gordon would have been allowed in! The evil, little...Ah! Quick, quick, in here!"

They scurried into a cave nestled in a small alcove in the cliff face. Alan sat down heavily, gasping for breath. "Ugh, I hate survival training. Especially survival training that's involves Gordon. You know, I couldn't see anything past that blindfold but I swore I could see the evil grin on his face."

"I know what you mean." John chuckled, settling himself down on the sandy floor. "The way he was chucking Four around, I could have sworn he was trying to scare us! And that was before he stranded us in the middle of a thunderstorm in a small inflatable dinghy..."

"A small inflatable dinghy, with a hole in it." Alan pointed out.

"Don't remind me... Hey, just be glad it _was_ Gordon this time. Scott and I did something similar to this once except Virgil stranded us. He literally left us in the middle of the ocean. We barely made it to shore. Dad had a few strong words to give him at the de-briefing, something along the lines of the phrase 'survival training' meaning that we should actually survive the training. Oh it was hilarious! I wish you had been there!"

Alan laughed, imagining the sight of his older sibling standing in the lounge, head held low, feet scuffing the carpet as he was told off by their father. "So, do you have any idea where we are?"

"I only know as much we've been told already. We're to cross the island and get to the western shore before tomorrow night and the only supplies we have are what's in our packs." He grabbed Alan's pack and his own and unzipped them, pulling out the contents within. "Which is, two bottles of water, two foil blankets, one penknife, and one ration bar, blueberry flavour."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Welcome to survival training Alan, it's not meant to be easy."

"Great..." He huffed. "Now what do we do?"

"Get some rest and wait for the storm to clear. Here, catch." He threw one of the foil blankets to Alan. "Strip your clothes off and spread them across the rock to dry off then wrap yourself in the blanket. It should keep you warm enough."

"Shouldn't we build a fire or something?" The younger blond asked as he struggled out of his wet clothes.

"With what?" John replied, his voice muffled due to his shirt being stuck over his head. With a tug, it popped off. "We haven't anything to start one with and even if we could find any dry wood in the jungle, I wouldn't recommend going back out there." He nodded towards the cave entrance, just as another flash of lightning boomed down.

"Good point." Alan said as he huddled under the blanket. "Any chance of some of that ration bar? I'm starved."

"Sure." John nodded. He unwrapped it and broke it in half, passing one piece over. Alan immediately took a bite, then grimaced, swallowed forcefully and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"Gagh! That's disgusting! Quick, pass the water!"

The older blond rolled his eyes. "Come on, it can't taste _that_ bad." He took a bite of his own piece, having to hold back his gag reflex when the taste hit him. "Oh God! That is so not blueberry." He grabbed his water and took a mouthful. "Jeez, that thing's worse than the emergency packs on Five..."

"I'll never complain about those things again."

"We'll see. What I wouldn't give to be up there right now..."

"But John, here you get to spend some quality time with your baby brother!" Alan joked. "Who just so happens to be your favourite, but who cruel fate dictates that you should barely see due to the shift patterns on Five."

"Favourite? Ha!" John laughed, chucking the rest of the bar in his brother's direction. "Trust me. I would rather be stuck here with but you!"

"Oh, you wound me!" Alan exclaimed dramatically.

"Suck it up."

Absently, Alan took another bite of the bar. "Gross! These things are even worse the second time around!"

"That's the reason I threw it at you."

"Hmm, I love you too darling brother..."

"I know. I know."

~#~

Morning broke, calm and peaceful, sunlight shining straight into the mouth of the cave, settling on Alan, who stirred in the warmth. He cracked open an eyelid, just as John walked back into the cave, carrying a balled up palm leaf.

"What's that?" He asked sleepily as he sat up..

"Breakfast!"

He placed the leaf down on the floor and unrolled it, revealing a number of large white grubs wriggling around it. Alan clapped a hand over his mouth in disgust.

"Oh no, no, no. I am not eating those!"

"Why not? They're Sago Grubs. Considered a delicacy in some cultures. They're actually quite tasty."

"No chance. Oh no, you're not..." He dry heaved as John picked up one and popped it into his mouth and crunched down. "Oh, you are disgusting."

John rolled his eyes and picked up the leaf, holding it under his younger brother's nose. "Trust me, just try one. I guarantee it'll taste better than that ration bar."

Hesitantly, Alan gingerly picked one up, biting his tongue as it wiggled in his grip. "Man, I must be hungry..." He close his eyes and slowly put it into his mouth. He gagged as it wriggled on his tongue but eventually managed to crunch down on it before forcing it down his throat.

"Well?" John enquired.

Alan slowly opened one eye, then the other, before finally letting out the breath he had been holding. He smacked his lips. "...Not half bad actually."

"Told you. Another?"

"Please."

* * *

As the morning turned into afternoon and the sun blazed in the sky, they fought through the dense jungle towards their destination. With the lack of a machete to hack through the foliage, John had found a sturdy stick to use instead, which handily also doubled as something to help him up the steep slope he was currently struggling up in the humid heat.

"Right, we should be able to see the western shore about now." He gasped as he hauled himself up over the last ridge. Getting to his feet, he leaned against the trunk of a large tree as he looked around. "Ah." He said simply.

"What? What is it?" Alan scrambled up the last of the slope, desperate to get a look at what had stopped John in his tracks. He couldn't miss it. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"Morning guys! Have a good night?" A cheerful voice called down to them and they looked up at the tree to see a certain red-head grinning cheekily at them from one of the lower branches.

"Gordon, did you purposely do this, or was it a last minute decision?" Alan asked calmly, but John could see the fist clenched tightly behind his back.

"Oh no, completely on purpose." Gordon laughed, sliding down the trunk and landing in front of them. "After all, after what happened to Scott and John last time, Dad explicitly told me to make sure you were relatively safe. And what's safer than being here? Did you enjoy your dinner by the way? Grandma baked us all pecan pie, it was delicious! We scoffed the lot."

John's stomach growled at the mention of Grandma's pie. Maybe he could persuade her to make some more for him. But his stomach was the only thing that growled. Letting out a guttural roar, Alan dove for his red-headed brother, who swiftly dodged out of the way and ran for his life, the younger blond hot on his tail.

Left standing at the top, John shook his head and chuckled, not just at the actions of both of his younger brothers, but at the complete absurdity of the entire situation. With one last glance back into the jungle through which they had came, he followed the trail left by the other two. He took a sharp right as he reached the stone path, the thought of a hot bath and pecan pie putting a spring into his step. Because after all, he had survived the night, more importantly he had survived the night with Alan, and now he had reached their final destination. None other than the Tracy Island Villa itself.

But then, what else did he expect from Gordon. To be honest, he should have seen it from the start...


End file.
